


Of Crimson Hues and Music Dues

by TashaVick87



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eight
Genre: F/F, First Times, Heist Wives, Rebirth, emotional catharsis, loubbie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:59:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaVick87/pseuds/TashaVick87
Summary: ''She shifts them into their usual dancing embrace, Debbie's hands around her neck, hers around that tiny waist she worshiped on a multitude of nights when words were unnecessary or just too plain heavy.''





	Of Crimson Hues and Music Dues

**Author's Note:**

> I have all these snapshots in my mind for these two and this one just sort of, popped onto my Word document :) hope you like it! :)

Debbie dances. It's all she seems to want to do these days, Lou observes. Whenever they have a moment away from the Heist planning and she thinks she's alone, Debbie blasts all kinds of music from the loft's surround system and just...moves.

Lou supposes correctly that it is one of Debbie's ways of giving her prison sentence the middle finger, in a kind of _''look at me now''_ way, but without really needing to face an audience. No, Lou think somewhat bitterly, heaven forbid anyone saw the human side of Deborah Ocean. Her passion, her fiery blood, her love for life. Heaven forbid anyone realized just how much that man destroyed her.

But just as soon as the vile aftertaste lodges itself in the back of her throat, it disappears as Lou spies Debbie executing a particularly sultry move to Camilla Cabello's Havana of all songs(not exactly Debbie's usual music, but Lou supposes the brunette's trying to catch up to the times). Her hips sway effortlessly from side to side and it's all Lou can do to stop herself from giving away her location, a tight, needy moan trapped in her chest.

Debbie's body moves in perfect rhythm and Lou feels the undefined urge to run down and...and what, she asks herself? Make it a twostep they perfected all those years ago? Check if they were still as in sync? Lou didn't need the dance to tell her that she would always be able to read Debbie's mind, even in her sleep,  and that Debbie would always know what to do and say to make Lou feel safe, warm and loved. Because that is what they are to each other, and that is what they will always be, ponders Lou, as she moves away from her vantage point and into her extensive wardrobe. She picks out an outfit she hadn't worn for almost two decades. It brings tears to her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall.

And when she is descending the stairs, she makes enough noise along the way for Debbie to start pretending to be reading a magazine.

And when the Ocean looks up, Lou recognizes the prepared, bored nuance of her gaze, the one she designed in the slammer, and she hates Claude Becker with an even stronger fervor, if it was even humanly possible. But no matter, Lou swears to herself. Bringing Debbie, the old Debbie, back to her, would be a task Lou would cherish and complete to perfection.

As Debbie takes in the outfit, the magazine drops to the side, forgotten. She is up from the couch and in front of Lou in a second, gaze on the scarlet floor-length dress. Pristine, in mint condition, even after twenty full years. Because it is one of Lou's most prized possessions. Because it was the first dress she ever wore and felt like she belonged in, like a second skin.

Of course Debbie picked it out for her, for their first heist. The off-the-shoulder neckline accentuated Lou's beautiful long neck, Debbie had said, as she stood behind her when Lou wore it for the first time, looking at her shiny, crimson reflection. Just as she stood behind her, peeling the fabric off when the job was done, when  their motel bed was covered in hundred dollar bills, and later their sweaty bodies, giving in to the passion that had simmered between them since the first moment they laid eyes on each other on that Staten Island boardwalk.

Now, Debbie stops just short of touching Lou, and Lou notices her hands are shaking. Her eyes are unfocused.

''Deb?''

Debbie shakes her head slightly, eyes still on Lou's collarbones, on the way the fabric still hugs her in all the right places, in all the right ways.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity for both of them, Debbie is there, in Lou's arms, burying her head in the crook of the blonde's neck.

Lou does it out of instinct,reacting to the song that suddenly comes from the speakers (must be one of Constance's more eclectic playlists, she thinks). She shifts them into their usual dancing embrace, Debbie's hands around her neck, hers around that tiny waist she worshiped on a multitude of nights when words were unnecessary or just too plain heavy.

A female cover of Sinatra's _Fly Me To The Moon_ almost fits them too perfectly, though Lou would never admit it outright. She has her own badass reputation to protect.

And as the song winds down, silence now reigning supreme, Debbie finally, _finally_ looks at her. She shifts her palms onto Lou's steady shoulders, moving her body further in, if that was at all possible. Dares to zero in on the ice-blue eyes of her life. The ice-blue that ironically melts her every time. The ice blue she'd betrayed six years ago. Tears make it hard, but she powers through the pain. She needs the words out. Right now. And Lou knows better than to interrupt. It is the beginning of Deborah Ocean's catharsis.

''I was weak. I was unsatisfied with our heist life. I was Dani Ocean's bratty little sister. I was out of my mind...to do that to you, Lou. Planning the Heist isn't the only thing that was on my mind while I was inside. It was more like forty percent of my time. The other sixty was you, Lou. Just you. And how I had shattered you. I know it sounds like I'm giving myself way too much importance,but the thing is, I know I shattered you, because I shattered _me_. The time with Claude was a way to find my bearings. I went with him yes, but only because falling for you was the single most scary thing that ever happened to me and I wanted the _needing you_ to end. I learned a along time ago I was no good for the people I cared about. I am an Ocean, babe. Oceans drown people, and yes, I know my metaphors aren't really deep, but bear with me, I think jail may have eaten away at some of my wit.''

Lou smiles affectionately, and tucks a stray lock of hair away from Debbie's face. Tears are streaming down the blonde's cheeks, but her eyes encourage Debbie to continue.

''The kicker is..I was planning on leaving him. After the deal was done, I was going to find you and I was ready for a lifetime of apologizing, a lifetime of making it better.''

Lou flinches at the words and she frowns, shocked.

''Is that why when I went to pick up your things they were all neatly packaged?''

Debbie nods and now it is Lou's turn to break. She hugs Debbie for all she's worth and is incapable of holding the cries in. Turns out, Lou Miller had her own catharsis waiting in the wings for quite some time.

''I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, baby, please...I'm sorry...Please forgive me..''

Debbie is on autopilot now, Lou's sobs breaking her further and when she feels Lou push her towards the stairs she feels her heart do that little jig it always did when she knew the blonde was going to make it better. Lou _always_ made it better.

Once inside, Lou looks at her, eyes impossibly open and vulnerable. And Debbie knows. Knows what Lou wants to know. She speaks before Lou manages to, a fact the blonde is grateful for.

''I am here. I am back, and I am never leaving again. Never. Not with a gun to my head. Never, Lou.''

And that is all Lou needs. She turns her back to Debbie and faces the mirror in the corner of her bedroom. In the reflection, her eyes meet Debbie's and Debbie understands. Re-birth. Their first time, reenacted, with Debbie trailing the same path across her body she did on that night almost two decades ago. And when she lays her blonde obsession down, Debbie hovers above her, her long hair fanning over Lou like a lover's halo.

''I've missed you so much, Deb.''

Debbie swallows, takes a deep breath and slides her lips against Lou's brow, her regal nose, her fevered cheek. And finally, their lips meet, a careful slide of slickness across heat, tentative and frightened, so very much like their first time.

Soon enough, it's sensory memory that kicks in, and when Lou finds herself clutching a fistfull of Debbie's hair, Debbie's talented mouth kissing its way down to where she needs it most, Lou knows.

They are each other's life. Each other's force. With that thought, all reason leaves her and her body snaps forward in an orgasmic explosion.

The world can go round.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? :)


End file.
